From: RuneQuest-Request@Glorantha.Holland.Sun.COM (RQ Digest Maintainer) To: RuneQuest@Glorantha.Holland.Sun.COM (Daily automated RQ-Digest) Reply-To: RuneQuest@Glorantha.Holland.Sun.COM (RuneQuest Daily) Subject: RuneQuest Daily, Thu, 28 Jul 1994, part 1 Sender: Henk.Langeveld@Holland.Sun.COM Content-Return: Prohibited Precedence: junk X-RQ-ID: Intro This is the RuneQuest Daily Bulletin, a mailing list on the subjects of Avalon Hill's RPG and Greg Stafford's world of Glorantha. It is sent out once per day in digest format. More details on the RuneQuest Daily and Digest can be found after the last message in this digest. --------------------- From: gkca16@udcf.gla.ac.uk (S.Phillips) Subject: A grand Heroquest Message-ID: <7717.199407271551@rockall.cent.gla.ac.uk> Date: 27 Jul 94 17:51:57 GMT X-RQ-ID: 5317 Hello from Sam -------------- Well I have been well and truly Convulsed! A quick (Ahem! ;-) resume of my weekend. A purely subjective view. Friday: Set off by train. Train was late. Missed conection. Arrived in the middle of the Rennaisance panel. Everyone was down on Avalon Hill. Even Ken Rolston it seemed. Greg agreed that A.H. weren't doing the business. Agreed to start publishing Glorantha gaming material. Cannot buy RQ back though as A.H. want silly money. Reaching Moon Megacorp have tried this already and have failed. Greg *wants* to do Glorantha gaming stuff. But he will have to write a new gaming system. Probably Pendragonish. Also, HeroQuest is out next year ;-) Friday (Later): Cthulu for President. Probably the most anarchic piece of Semi-roleplaying I have ever seen. It was a shambles. But worth it to see Ken, Greg and Sandy look almost as daft as their fanatic supporters throwing themselves to be sacrificed. Having arrived late I was bemused. I had *no* idea what was going on. Nick was particularily good attatched to Sandy's thigh. I have no idea what the outcome was.. Friday (Even later): Dinner. I introduced myself to Nick who immediately said a lot of kind words about me and then introduced me to everyone who is anyone repeating such kind words to them. I was most flattered - even moreso when asked to join them for dinner. The americans were introduced to Fish'n'chips along with Pukka Pies. They were very polite ;-). I seem to remember Greg saying something along the lines of "What is this shit?.. Deep fried lips'n'assholes?". He *was* right of course. I found everyone really freindly and approachable. This turns out to be one of the wonderfull aspects of the whole weekend. Friday (Even, even later): The pub closed and sandy entertained us with his many anecdotes of Doom!, Horror, TSR, Computer programmers, RQ, Glorantha, etc, etc. Boy he can talk. But even more amazing - it is *all* interesting. Thanks, Sandy.. Friday (Even, even, even, later): Decided it was time to retire. I had not found my room yet as it was apart from the main block and I didn't want to miss anything. I wandered about the college grounds for an hour with a large bag on my back. Having tried my key in every door I could find I fell into a deep despair. I was just about to sleep under a tree when I ran into Dave Cheng who was able to furnish me with directions to the "Harrick", sorry, "Herrick" Block. Bed at last. Thanks, Dave.. Saturday (Early): Despite hangover I was up in time for breakfast (shock!). I collected my plate of grease and beans. And sat down. To my great joy I was joined by Greg who then tried to dump half his breakfast on my plate. Everyone looked suprisingly chirpy. Saturday (Late morning): Trollball. MOB rounded us up and we were furnished with large inflatable weapons. I joined Joerg and his "Toss-in-da-ball" crazy German Berzerker trolls.. he even had matching T-shirts!. We regrouped on the croquet lawn. From then on it was slow-motion mahem from start to finish. Splendid stuff! Alex and Joerg fight out their Tribal Initiation debate with large padded clubs. They are both over 6'4" and look rather odd. Sandy and Ken are inspired and so follow suite. Saturday (Lunchish): Eat at Geos! I entered a fine Sartarian Haggis which caused Greg to vomit. Arf! Ken Rolson liked it though.. Saturday (after Lunchish): Free form. I wasn't in it. Waaaa! The costumes, in particular the hats were splendid. I have just put my photos in - Hope they come out :-0 The refs were running about like mad things. Saturday (afternoon): I was a bit drunk by now so things start to go a bit hazy. I know I went to the panels held during the freeform but I can't remember what they were about. Heroquesting was one, I beleive, and Glorantha vs Rules was another. Heroquest rules - out next year ;-) Saturday (later): Met some nice blokes from N.Ireland who are also creating a Sartarian campaign. Had some good stuff. Saturday (Evening): Pub Quiz. Bloody impossible. Our team came second - no thanks to me. I think I could answer 1 question completely - "Who is the troll god of Drummers?". I couldn't even name all 7 7-mothers!! I plead Drink (and very little brain). As Einstein once said, "I have no idea what the answer is, but I know where to find it". Saturdy (Late): Free form ends and the Bizzare hats start to move towards the door. The Refs look completely knackered, as do many of the players. Who died, who converted, who perverted - I have no idea. Everyone seemed to have a splendid time. The Humakti sitting beside me in the pubquiz kept trying to sever their Malkioni spirits whenever they interupted the pubquiz by talking loudly at the bar. These cursed sorcerers and atheists must be imune. Curses!.. Saturday (v.late): Ran into Jon Quaife and started talking about Sartar. We talked and talked and drank and even I smoked horrible foreign roll-ups. The bar closed, the college closed, the beer finished. Jon has a lot of very grim, realistic ideas about Sartar. His Sartar stuff is gritty and dangerous. My Sartar stuff is daft and jolly and rather like Asterix books. As you can see we didn't have a lot to agree on. But oddly enough we did. Saturday (v.v.late): I pulled a large 17yr old bottle of single malt whisky out of my bag. A flagging night is rekindled along with the flagging conversation. We are joined by various people we wander into the conversation and wander off and others who wander in. We discuss Heroquesting and the creation, destruction and metamorphosis of myth. It all sounded brilliant at the time - we thought we had solved all the great dilemmas of Glorantha. I am glad Dave Cheng wasn't there with his tape recorder, however, as I can go on believing this if I want.. Saturday (v.v.v.late): We relocate to the lawn and continue to discuss life. Our conversation is now on the level of - "You ash shucha good pall, Schon.." etc. We are joined by Dan Barker, amazing Illuminator of sacred documents and all round super bloke. He is wearing a strange Nepolianish hat - (Nick Brooke's I believe). He helps with the whisky and conversation. Saturday (v.v.v.late): Sandy and a few others turn up. He tells us all about the american civil war, slavery, and the creation of american politics as they are now. Despite my drunken state I can steal see him saying "Wigs!" in that particular way that only Sandy Peterson and cartoon characters do. He has a vast knowledge of any historical subject you choose to discuss. Which is not bad from a biologist! After an indeterminate length of time they wander off to bed. Saturday (Far too late!): The sun is coming up and we are still at it. I can barely speak, let alone stand. This is male bonding at it's most finely honed. We decide to call it a night. A morning would be more accurate. Saturday (Well Sunday really): Me and Dan decide to finish the whisky in the doorway of my building. We are now discussing art. I cannot focus. Somehow, somewhen I make it to bed. A bad hour or two of sleep follows. Sunday (Later than planned): I way up still drunk to discover a) I have missed breakfast b) I have spent all my money on drink and fanzines so cannot but any breakfast.. c) I forgot to put my games into the auction so have no way of getting any more money. I take my splitting head to the main building and sit in a stupor while watching Nick talk and Greg Nod, then Greg talk and Nick shake his head. I had many questions to ask but could not open my dry, moldy mouth let alone lift a limb above my head. The rest of the day and it's many splendid events pass in a haze of hunger and hangover. I later meet up with Jon who is in a worse state than me and looks physically green. Sunday (Early evening): I start to perk up. I have managed to find some money and have purchased a large bottle of water, a loaf, some cheese, ham and pickle. Greg addresses the convention with a moving speech about his childhood problems, life, current beliefs and tatoos. I get leg-cramp half the way through and make a spectacle of myself. I hop off to the sidelines. Sunday (Later): It is getting near to Orlanthi storytelling time. Suddenly the bright sunny day recedes and is replaced by storm clouds. A strong wind arrives from nowhere and rocks the trees. Litter, leaves and small children are uprooted from the ground. There is a flash. Thunder. Torrential rain. Like all good Orlanthi we rush outside to enjoy it. It is very exiting. On a not too distant hill a hillwalker is struck by lightning and is killed, Somewhere similar a chemical factory is struck and catches fire. I realise that I have somehow managed to miss Sandy's address. I am displeased. Sunday (Sometime around nowish): The law action. There are 6 questions that cannot be asked. One of which is "what are the other 5". People try to get round this but to no avail. D.Cheng collects the money and records the event. I won't therefore attempt to remember any of it. I decide to ask a question and squander one quarter of my wealth apon it. I get a 20 second answer. :'-( Sunday (Even Later): Or was this before? Oliver reads a new Griselda story. It is most splendid. The buggers at the bar keep talking so I miss some of the juicy bits. Still splendid nonetheless. I still have a headache so choose to sit out of the rowdy pub singing. Somewhere around now someone pays 200pounds for one of Gregs collection of old scribbles. I mock, but am secretly jelous. Sunday (Later again): The storytelling competion is good. Nick performs without aid of notes and with much style. I fear he suffers due to the similarity in structure to another story told. Lewis tells a fine tale but it is too long so I drift off in parts. I hear the funny bits and the end as these are the times when the audience laugh or clap. Greg chooses Lewis as winner. Nick is second. One wonders how much of this was a political decision on his part? Sunday (Getting late again): Greg reads tales from his lunar book. He informs us that these are not for publication. Nick appears to be operation Gregs strings by now. Everyone seems drunk apart from myself. The tales are good and I have a revelation in the middle. I decide I have discovered the secret of the god learners. Afterwards Nick gives me a warm can of Guinness which I immediately open. It sprays everywhere and again I look foolish. I drink the tiny bit left at the bottom. Still, I am offered fine whisky and I do not decline the offer. I discuss computers and artificial intelligence with a world expert. I do not realise how far out of my depth I am. -- Cheers, Dave! Sunday (Far too late): I and Alex are cornered by Joerg who tempts us into a gaming room with promises of a look at RQ:AiG. We have to agree to play in his campaign though as he has made a promise that only his players will get at it. Very noble I am sure. It is fun despite the lateness. I very nearly fall asleep. RQ:AiG is very good, though rather unpolished. -- Thanks, Joerg. Monday (Early): I am up in time for breakfast. I again feel grim. The mood is somewhat sad. I will skip the depressing tailoff and genuine fairwells. I finish my film. Pick up all the kind Gifts from all the kind people I have met and Alex and I go for the bus. The journey back is horrible and involves coaches where trains should be and no free seats. We sit in the first class without paying and have a comfy ride home. SPLENDID -- THANKS!! Sam. x. Not Scotland But Sartar. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- WARNING: THE FOLLOWING TEXT READS LIKE AN OSCARS SPEECH... WARNING: THE FOLL ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- A big thanks to the Convulsion team especially - David, Kevin, Lewis, Dave, Nick, MOB etc for making it such fun. Extra thanks MOB, Penny and Mike who paid to be unpaid guests. An extra big thanks to Greg, Sandy and Ken for being such good sports. A personal greeting to Dan & Jon for sitting up all night drinking whisky with me and discussing Sartar. I know neither of them are on the daily but what the heck, word might get back to them.. A personal greeting to Nick. Thanks for all the little words of wisdom. Oh, and for the beer, kind words and promises of maps. "You're a very nice man.. He's a very nice man.. very nice". He's not actually, he's a Bastard - but don't tell him I told you that ;-) Big thanks to Joerg and all the other German Runequesters for letting me play in their Trollball team. "Toss-in-da-ball!".. Oh, and for letting me join the German RQ Society. Money on it's way v.soon ;-).. Another thanks to Joerg for letting me join his playtest group. And to all the rest of you - Thanks! - it was a great time. Why are RQ gamers so much nicer than normal gamers? It is probably the joint suffering in the shadow of a cruel master that does it. Or the booze. THANKS ALL! -- SAM. x. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------